Liberty Night
by Rainey13
Summary: It's the 4th of July, and time for fireworks - just a little holiday snippet inspired by watching the Macy's show from New York tonight. I got to thinking that Peter and Neal should be there...


The sights of Manhattan slid by as the cab made its way – slowly – south. Ordinarily, the West Side Highway would have offered a quicker route, but tonight it was closed off south of 59th, leaving the already heavy traffic to find other ways around town.

Getting stuck in the never-ending traffic was never his first choice of ways to spend time. Still, Neal decided, it could be worse in this case. He was sitting in the middle of the back seat, boxed in on one side by Sara Ellis, and on the other side by Elizabeth Burke. So, he'd definitely been in worse situations.

Peter was in the front seat, leaning forward, as if that would get the cab through traffic any faster. He was giving directions to the driver, other options to try.

For his part, Neal was in no particular hurry. They had plenty of time to make their destination – and, as he'd already noted, his company in the back seat was eminently pleasant. From his right, there was a soft scent of lavender, so clean and fresh, and so very Elizabeth. The scent from his left, on the other hand, was more complex. Patchouli, spicy and heady, one of Sara's favorites.

The cab turned east, which seemed strange, since they needed to head west, toward the Hudson. But when they turned south again a few blocks later, the plan became clearer. With so many people heading toward the Hudson River Park area, traffic eased a bit going the other way.

By the time they neared Battery Park, however, there was no way to ignore, or evade, the traffic. They were at the southern tip of the island, so no place really to go.

The cab inched forward, but the solid sea of vehicles in front of them spoke of no relief.

Peter finally tuned toward the three people in the back seat. "Everyone all right to walk a little?"

"Let's do it," Neal said, as Elizabeth and Sara echoed the sentiment.

Peter paid the cabbie as the others got out. With the longest legs among the three, Neal reflected that taking the middle seat might not have been his best plan as he tried to un-wedge himself. Still, the memory of sitting between Sara and Elizabeth rather offset the awkwardness of trying to get out.

The two women finally laughed and took his hands, pulling him out. And then they were all laughing as they set off down the sidewalk.

It was a clear evening, with the sun still giving a warm glow to the west. The forecast was for temperatures in the seventies, with mostly clear skies – perfect.

They made their way west, running at times to make the walk lights, and laughing at Peter's sputtering indignation when they jaywalked. And finally the pier came into view.

"There it is," Peter said, pointing. "The _Lucky Lady_. The Bureau seized it in a drug raid – nabbed some high level cartel members too. It's going to auction, but in the meantime…"

Elizabeth smiled and reached for her husband's hand. "Peter."

The agent caught himself and grinned. "Right, I guess we don't need the whole history. Let's just say, the Bureau has the use of the yacht tonight, and it's nice."

The Burkes walked ahead, hand in hand, and Neal turned to Sara, smiling and extending his hand. "Ready to spend the evening on a floating party boat with the best of the New York FBI office?"

"I think I can handle that," she replied, grinning. "Especially since they're letting you on board too."

Neal slapped a hand to his chest, feigning pain at the dig, but then he grinned too. "I'll try not to show the best up too badly tonight."

"Probably a good idea," Sara agreed, pulling him ahead. "Maybe I can keep you out of trouble."

"But I'm so much fun when I'm trouble," Neal protested, letting himself get pulled up the gangplank.

"No trouble," Peter warned, turning back to look over his shoulder.

"None that you'll find out about," Neal replied, all innocence.

Peter looked skeptical, but Elizabeth and Sara just laughed, and together they made their way inside the main compartment.

It was luxurious – there was really no other way to describe it. Thick carpet cushioned their steps, rich wood paneled the walls, golden lights illuminated the area. At one end, a large bar was already a popular stop. A few tables and chairs were scattered throughout the rest of the room.

Peter and Elizabeth stopped to talk to Hughes, who had a couple of his grandchildren in tow. Neal led Sara toward the bar, noting all of the others filing into the room. He recognized Ruiz from Organized Crime, holding hands with a blond woman – presumably his wife, otherwise the office gossip in the morning would be merciless. Kimberly Rice was there as well, with a couple of the other agents he recognized from Missing Persons. Diana and Christie were standing off to one side, wine glasses in hand, talking to an agent Neal recognized, but whose name he couldn't quite place. And Jones…

Jones was there, holding hands and whispering with a woman Neal had never seen before. _And he made a mental note to investigate that situation more before the night was over._

At the bar, Neal ordered a Ketel One on the rocks for himself, and a gin martini for Sara. Thus fortified, they made their way out onto the back deck.

A small stage featured a jazz combo, the soft music filling the space. At the back, a couple of industrial-size grills had been set up, and the heady scent of grilled food wafted through the air. More agents and their guests milled about, snacking on mini-burgers and sausages and a variety of side dishes offered on two banquet tables near the grills.

Neal felt an arm on his shoulder, and turned to find that Peter and Elizabeth had caught up to them. Elizabeth had a glass of wine in her hand, and Peter…

Well, at least Peter had opted for an _imported_ beer, Neal noted.

"Man, that smell is making me hungry," Peter said, steering the four of them toward the food. "Are you guys hungry?"

"I am," Sara admitted. "I was working on a tough recovery case all day, and I…"

Neal grinned and leaned in, kissing her. "No shop talk tonight," he said when they parted.

"No shop talk," she agreed, smiling.

They got plates and stepped up to the buffet line. A few minutes later, plates laden with all manner of summer salads, pickles, chips, fruit, and a variety of grilled goods, the four of them made their way up to the top-most level of the yacht, managing to secure the last two unclaimed lounge chairs.

As they started to eat, the loudspeakers crackled to life, with the announcement that the boat was leaving the dock. And so it did, with only the barest hint of movement discernible. The captain swung them slightly to the south as they pulled away from the pier and Neal pointed across the harbor, to where Lady Liberty kept sentinel watch. The lights were just coming on, an almost misty green glow enveloping the statue as they paused to watch her.

And then the yacht turned, heading north up the Hudson. The New Jersey shoreline beckoned on the left, the skyline of Newark hulking over the piers. To the right, Manhattan was lit up for the evening, the darkening skies giving the city an other-worldly, magical glow. The shoreline there almost seemed to be alive with thousands of people gathered to celebrate.

They weren't going far, and the yacht cruised its leisurely way to its designated spot. Peter and Neal made their way back downstairs as the night sky darkened, returning a few minutes later with another round of drinks.

Neal settled back in the lounge chair, smiling as Sara slid between his legs and leaned back against his chest. In the next chair, Peter and Elizabeth had adopted much the same positions.

Neal sipped his Ketel One, and busied himself playing with Sara's hair as it draped over her shoulders. From the next chair, he was vaguely aware of Peter explaining to Elizabeth that the Bureau had gotten special permission to anchor as close as they were going…

There was a slight shudder as the yacht's engines stopped, and then came the sound of a chain running out as the anchor was dropped. A few minutes later the speakers crackled to life again, and the strains of John Philip Sousa's _Stars and Stripes Forever_ enveloped them.

A _BOOM_ heralded the start of the show, and seconds later the first fireworks shell burst over the river, filling the sky with tendrils of color and light. Once started, the barrage was nearly continuous, with the crews on six barges firing off shell after shell after shell. A rainbow of color illuminated the night sky.

Most of the conversation was reduced to 'oooh' and 'ahhhh' as each new burst of shells wowed the spectators. But at one point, Neal looked to his left and found Peter looking back at him, smiling.

The agent raised his beer bottle in a toast. "Happy Fourth of July, Neal."

"Happy Fourth, Peter," he returned softly.

_The night was perfect. The company was perfect._

_How could he think about leaving…_


End file.
